El Macero Country Club, a beautifully kept and elegantly run golf layout and gathering place, has been celebrating its 50th birthday this year.

Looking more alluring with each passing year, this Green Lady has a dark side that has taken many a men down the wrong path.

I’ve been privileged to play the 6,827-yard layout on a handful of occasions — each time falling under the spell of her long limbs and seductive traps.

While talking with a friend the other day about El Macero, it dawned on me. My 50th anniversary as a “golfer” is this year, too.

In eighth-grade, my teacher George Mizuguchi took me and a couple of friends to play golf for the first time ever. I was hooked … but horrible.

The past five decades have done nothing to change my love of the game — or in any way improve my play.

Looking back, I’ve had some great times. Of those memories, only one outing ever had anything to do with playing well.

Here’s a Top 10 look back…

10. Anaheim Municipal (circa 1968): Playing partner Verne Alford had two holes-in-one on the same day. One counted; the other was a mishit drive that found the cup one fairway over.

9. Lake Tahoe (circa 1993): Still wearing a knee brace from surgery (and tennis shoes so my spikes wouldn’t catch), I fell face down in the mud on a par-3 tee box. My shot went OB left. Playing partners Bud Cassell and Doug Malinoff think the parallel-to-the-ground, stopped-in-midair moment before I fell three feet to earth remains the funniest thing they’ve ever seen. Meanwhile, back at the carts, the bluejays were eating our sandwiches.

8. Davis Municipal (who knows when … and yes, it was called Muni then): Playing with Greg Gibbs in a Kiwanis Tournament, we shot so far over our heads we won the thing! I was so bad, I thought my 81 was a good score for that course.

7. Green Tree (1981): Davis Enterprise publisher Burt McNaughton (who is an excellent golfer) and I played together for the last time. On No. 3, as I teed up, Burt told me, “Watch the ducks out there.” I laughed, drilled the ball — and killed the lead mallard, who was walking across the fairway about 80 yards out.

6. Fullerton Municipal (1972): Close your eyes if you’re squeamish. Lolly gagging a 7-iron back and forth on a tee block — waiting for the group in front of us to clear — I accidentally clicked my ball with the club. From about 20 feet I hit my best friend Bill Goslow squarely in the … Well, he was down for about 10 minutes while a couple of groups played through. Goslow has no children of his own.

5. Lake Tahoe (1981): Golfing with my wife, we played nine holes. It was one of the few times we’ve been together on the links. Golf is supposed to be relaxing, and if you want to score well, it’s a game on which to concentrate. Playing with Debbie is a riot — and disconcerting. You see, each time she hit the ball — despite the fact that we rented a cart — she ran after the ball. Debbie, it’s not going anywhere — especially when you or I hit it.

4. Davis Muni (Nov. 2, 1991): I lost six balls on the front nine at Muni. At Muni. I remember the date because it was my birthday and the two sleeves were a gift from my wife.

3. La Costa (1975): I played in a pro-am tournament with Hall of Famer Al Geiberger and singer Glen Campbell. Two nicer — or more patient — people you’ll never meet. Geiberger shot a 70. I missed a bogey putt on No. 17, falling just 37 strokes back going into the final hole.

2. Waikoloa Beach Golf Course (1984): My playing partner Rick Jensen wound up in the emergency room in Kona — and I had nothing to do with it. First, he lined one of his drives off the women’s tee block 10 yards in front of him. The ball came straight back and hit him in the head. Wobbly, but playing on, Rick then decided to collect mishit balls at the bottom of a ravine. Gingerly navigating the a’a lava, he slipped and slid on the glass-sharp pumice, carving a map of West Virginia in his back. While the ambulance was loading Jensen, I made my putt and finished with a career-best 74. Oh, yeah … We quit after 12 holes.

1. Pebble Beach (1989): Call Bud Cassell if you don’t believe this one. Our wives bought us rounds of golf on this legendary course. Cassell can play. While he was carding a 42 on the front nine, I went 12-12-10 on the first three holes (truth). At the turn, I had a 69. I asked my caddy if there was anything I could do to improve: He brought me a margarita and told me to play faster. After back-to-back bogies, I pared 12, 13, 14, 15 and 16. No. 17 was disaster, but when my approach shot on No. 18 hit an oak tree and landed four feet from the cup, I birdied the final hole — finishing the day at 69-39 for a 108.

Go ahead, ask Bud.

— Bruce Gallaudet is a staff writer for The Davis Enterprise. Reach him at [email protected] or (530) 747-8047.

Comments

comments